Little Rue
by KrekDe
Summary: A short story consisting of an inner-monologue courtesy of Rue.


_Little Rue_

I know they say my full name, but all I hear is 'Rue'. I should be more upset, or at least surprised, given the large size of District 11, but the only thing my mind can focus on is the heads turning in front of it. It's a weird feeling knowing that you're the loneliest person in town. Knowing that everyone around you is feeling safe once more in their world while yours has been shattered. Well, not everyone. Somewhere out there, beyond this sea of people are five kids and the two people struggling to comfort them. Thinking of my family jars my mind back into coherence. It's then that I notice all of the eyes staring into mine, and that the wall of people in front of me has begun to crack. This year's lucky ones are gracious as I pass by them. Most greet me with sympathetic smiles, but some are clearly smiling in relief. Relief that they aren't the ones climbing the steps of the Justice Building that are so big. The Justice Building has always been big, but it has never felt this imposing before. It's only when I take my place beside the colorful parrot from the Capitol that I am able to spot my family. Dad is reliably stoic, or as stoic as a man can be while watching his eldest child being led to her death; Mom is doing an admirable job of hiding her pain in the necks of her children; the five siblings I steal extra food for look at me like admonished puppies. I don't know why, but their silent pleading of wanting their sister back fills me with hope, and a determination to make it back. And why shouldn't I make it back? I may be a tiny twelve-year-old, but I know that I'm smart enough to make up for my lack of size. Being the oldest of six children has made me wise beyond my years. There's no reason why little Rue can't outsmart everyone else and become the victor of the 74th Hunger Games. At least there wasn't until the reaping of District 11's male tribute.

I've never met Thresh. Actually, looking at all these faces reminds me that I haven't met very many people. I'm too shy, I guess. But seeing the monster that is Thresh deflates what little self-confidence I had managed to build. Thresh is huge. He must be almost two feet taller than I am, and probably outweighs me by at least a hundred pounds. I may be quick, and my light body may enable me to hop from tree-to-tree, but one look at Thresh and I know that being light and nimble won't get you very far in a fight to the death. If Thresh wanted to he could reach across the podium and snap me in half in front of all of District 11 before the games even began. This may be the only time in my life that I'm thankful for the presence of peacekeepers. Thresh is a terrifying reminder of what awaits me in the Capitol's arena. Eleven's male tribute may be one of the physically largest tributes in this year's games, maybe even the largest, but he certainly will not be the only one. In fact, I'm quite certain that every other tribute in this year's games will be larger than me. I may be able to outsmart some of them, but I can't possibly outsmart all of them. And there's no way the Gamemakers will allow me to hide in the treetops until everyone else has killed each other. I'm going to have to run from kids that are bigger than me, kids that are stronger than me, and kids that are faster than me. And then there's the Careers to worry about. There's no way I can run forever. Eventually someone will find me. Whether it's because I need to find food or because the Gamemakers decide it's my turn. I've seen it every year. The tribute that is the best at hiding is the tribute that is the worst at fighting. There is one thing that someone like me can do, but it is also the one thing I've never been very good at, save for the mockingjays that have always liked my four-note melody. An alliance with the Careers seems unlikely. What use would they have for a tiny girl from the fields? Maybe I can convince Thresh that the District tributes need to stick together, but that still leaves the problem of him having to kill me and I'd rather not give him that opportunity right away. There has to be one person out of the other eleven that will not immediately look at me as an easy kill. But there's no use in thinking about that now. I won't know until that countdown ends and I step off that platform. All I know is that little Rue from District 11 needs a friend.

* * *

I had been shadowing her for days before she even took notice of me. Well that's not entirely true. She saw me steal Cato's knife. She saw me hiding behind that pillar in the training arena. I saw her sitting beneath a tracker jacker nest. The entirety of Panem saw the Careers sleeping beneath her tree. What the victims of those tracker jackers saw after that nest burst upon the ground I can only guess at, but from what I know about tracker jackers it was nothing pleasant. From the way they ran, from the way _she_ ran, everything I was ever told about tracker jackers looked to be true. And she ran so fast, and with such terror that I didn't think I'd be able to stay with her. But I did. I watched her tumble through the woods. Watched as the blonde-haired boy from her district yelled at her to leave. I saw her curl up in a little ball while the tracker jacker venom terrorized her mind. I was astonished when I saw her kill some form of wild bird quicker than anything I've ever seen. I am relieved when I decide to take a chance and stick my boot out from behind a tree and she offers to become allies. It's when she gives me an entire groosling leg all to myself that I decide that Katniss Everdeen may be the friend that little Rue needs, even if she only did it because I healed her tracker jacker stings; but I like to think it was because Katniss was being kind. You don't see much kindness in the Hunger Games. Of course I don't think of the absolute certainty that if Katniss and I are the final two tributes that one of us will kill the other, and given what I've seen of Katniss' nature I expect I'll be the one burdened with that guilt. But I can't think about that now. Not when I'm wrapped in Katniss' warm embrace high up in one of the trees we can so skillfully climb; far away from the horrors of the world below.

"I think we're going to have to fix that, Rue." That was what Katniss said to me yesterday. Before we slept safely in our tree. Before we were both jolted awake by the cannon announcing the deaths of the day's tributes. Katniss had decided that we were going to destroy the Careers' food supply, and I had decided that trusting Katniss was a good idea. It wasn't like she was putting me in much danger, anyway. All I had to do was set some fires. Katniss would be the one exposing herself to the careers. She would be the one who would have to fight them if I didn't get the fires right. Katniss would be the one most likely to be killed during this plan. That was probably why I found myself throwing my arms around her without thinking. 'You be careful,' she says in much that same way I would instruct my siblings. I tell her to do the same but I can tell she worries about sending me off on my own. I don't know why. All I had to do was set some fires.

* * *

I know it's bad before she does. Not because of the pain, but because of the blood pooling beneath my shirt. The spear is too deep to do anything about, and we both know it. I ask her about the food. She assures me that she blew it all up. That makes me happy. It makes me believe in the Girl on Fire. I tell her she has to win. She tells me she's going to win, for both us. I hear a cannon and can't help but smile at the Capitol's eagerness in getting rid of Katniss' only ally. Then I notice the boy from District 1 with one of Katniss' arrows buried in his neck. That was his cannon. Mine is still waiting for me. I ask her not to go and she pulls my head into her lap. I finally start to feel the pain and begin to tremble. I ask Katniss to sing and her eyes open wide. She stares at me with her fierce, grey eyes and I begin to apologize for my request, though I doubt I could get the words out. Before I can try, Katniss coughs, swallows hard, and begins her song. Gently. Almost too gently for me to hear. I don't fight as my eyes flutter shut and let the beauty of Katniss' voice carry me away.

 _Deep in the meadow, under the willow_

 _A bed of grass, a soft green pillow_

 _Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes_

 _And when again they open, the sun will rise._

The voice of my final friend faded from my ears, and I could see nothing but a brilliant white. 

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings_

 _them true_

 _Here is the place where I love you._

* * *

I welcome any critiques and/or notice of spelling/grammar mistakes.


End file.
